


A Dagger To The Heart

by visheretowrite



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Death, F/M, Gen, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:12:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7965640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visheretowrite/pseuds/visheretowrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Love and Death meet, year after year, it's never happy, and it's always forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dagger To The Heart

Dear Juliet. I could relate to her pain. Black misery painted on a blood red heart. Death would be more bearable than life without Romeo.~ Marilyn Grey, The Life I Now Live

 

What a terrible thing it is to be in love with someone who can you know can never be with you. If you love someone, and they love you back, but fate drives you apart, should you really be in love? 

Of course. Fuck the idea of should be together. People should be together, but they aren’t. Doesn’t make the love any less real than before. We don’t know why we fall in love with the people we do, but we can’t help it. After all, fate is what brings people together, but who says it keeps them together? More often, it is what drives them apart. 

However sad your story is, it’s nothing compared to this one. 

The story of Love and Death is a tragic and unforgiving one. But the worst part is, it’s a never ending one. The horrible thing about being immortal is the pain is there, all the time, threatening to make you go insane. All the great lovers were able to have an end to their shitty stories, and live on in a happy place together, if you believe in heaven, and all that. 

But Love and Death will never have that. They are the original story of star-crossed the lovers, the embodiment of pain. 

Oh look at me here, being an asshole of a narrator. I haven’t even introduced the main characters of our tragedy here. 

Death. What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of death? A tall man, cloaked in black, perhaps? His face covered by a mask, dark, brooding eyes, with skin that’s horrible and pale. Maybe he’s crude and awful. 

You wouldn’t expect a sympathetic young woman, would you? One who has hair like sunshine, and eyes like a cloudy sky. One whose smile disarms warriors and causes stares from all those around. Who said Death had to be miserable? Why couldn’t Death be sorrowful, and respectful? Why did Death have to be so cruel and unforgiving? Why couldn’t Death also embody love? After all, Death sees people in their last moments, when they show their true self. 

She was Death. And she was a vision. A kind young woman who didn’t discriminate at all. One who showed kindness to philanthropists and murderers all the same. Who had a heart so pure that it would never be tainted. She was honest, though. Why do you think so many people fear her? Because they must abhor from their lies and tell the truth. 

What about the other side of the equation? Love. 

Love. Supposedly a beautiful young woman, who never wanted anything but happiness for anyone. A woman who was clothed in the colors of love, red, pinks, whites, all colors. One who was the picture of kindness. 

What a fucked up lie. Love brings the most pain of all. You wouldn’t expect a young man, with hair as black as night, eyes as green as the sea. One whose powers devastated empires, caused countless deaths, tore through families, friends, and people. Who ever assumed that Love was a nice thing obviously had never been in it. Sure, Love is passionate, wonderful, powerful and important. But I never said, nice, did I? In the end, Love rips apart a person while they are alive, and shows their true nature. 

He was Love. And he was a monster. A brutal young man who didn’t care who fell prey to his powers. He didn’t enjoy happy endings. Why do you think it’s really sad love stories that live on? No one remembers the happy endings. Why do you think the story of Romeo and Juliet lives on? The most famous couple in history had a tragic ending.

Death and Love sound awfully alike, don’t they? Both are perceived to be the exact opposite of what they truly are. 

Just remember when I tell you the story, it hasn’t ended. 

Love and Death have been in love longer than there were words.

They met for the first time on a lonely dirt path. There had been many times in the eons that had passed that they could have met. After all, Death is death for all living things, and Love also represents familial and platonic love. 

Love and Death were an odd story. Many times, they could have met. Hardly would they have paid attention to one another. He appeared usually in the middle of someone dying, while she appeared at the end, just before they took their last breath. Constantly, they missed one another. 

And sometimes, Love didn’t even show up. Naturally, they met by accident. 

When Love first appeared on the road, he wasn’t there because he exactly chose to be. On the road laid a girl, no more than fifteen, calling out for her lover. Of course, by the power of Love, her lover never came. And Love stuck around for just a moment too long. 

As the girl was nearing her last breath, Death showed up. She helped the girl’s soul to her feet, gathered it in her arms, transported her to wherever souls go. I mean, whatever you believe in. 

Love saw Death, and he could feel the energy radiating off of her. Not negative, not positive, just simple, pure energy. 

Death saw Love, and she could feel the power radiating off of him. Pure, unfiltered, power that broke boundaries. 

It wasn’t a meeting of great Joy, (for she had taken the day off) or a meeting of great Despair. (for he was home sick) 

No, the only thing it was was a meeting of Fate. (she never got a day off and she hated it)

The first time Love and Death looked at each other, it wasn’t a dramatic love glance nor was it a look full of hate. It was just… a look. Ironic, right? The one of the oldest stories in history started off as the most anticlimactic. 

Love tilted his head. Death was an interesting soul to look at. She was beautiful, yes, but that beauty was offset by this look in her eyes. It was a mixture of curiosity, along with wariness. The look was ephemeral, vanishing in two moments. Oddly enough, he couldn’t see the path her loves would take. She didn’t have relationships of any sort, and he couldn’t even see the ones that were yet to be formed, which was highly unusual.

Death regarded Love with careful eyes. Handsome, yes, but that was what love was like. Charming and pretty on the outside, jagged pieces of broken glass on the inside. Yet, he was staring at her in such a way that it made her feel at ease. Not comfortable, exactly, but so she didn’t have to be as guarded. Obviously, she didn’t see any visions of his death, nor those around him. But, he seemed magnetic to look at, yet painful at the same time, similar to a horrific car crash on a road. 

Love didn’t move; neither did Death. She simply stared at him and cocked an eyebrow, daring him to come closer. A smile spread across his features, but he didn’t take the bait. He acknowledged her existence by nodding his head; once, then disappearing in a plume of smoke. 

She shook her head, chuckling, and vanished. But the moment lingered with both of them. It impacted both of them. 

Love and Death continued this game of cat and mouse for centuries, until they found themselves quite intrigued by one another. They would communicate with one another, not through words, but through looks, for everyone knows that Love and Death did not speak. They fell in love silently, wanting to see and touch one another, to feel the other’s face and stare right into their eyes. Love and Death made it their mission to meet up. To see each other as much as possible. That’s why so many call out for loved ones of any kind during their final moments. 

Love and Death would meet, communicate once again, then vanish, their hearts newly broken. 

Imagine Love’s surprise when he realized that he himself was in love. I bet he ran away, screaming. Man, I’m snickering as I write this for you guys. Oh, that’s right. You don’t know who I am. I’ll tell you later. And a hint. (I’m not Love or Death)

To the great chagrin of many people (or maybe just me), Love didn’t run away screaming when he realized he fell into his own trap. No, he didn’t move for a solid five minutes when he realized it. The next time he saw Death, a barrage of emotions flashed through his eyes. 

And Death saw every single one of them. This experience prompted her to have her own mid-immortal life crisis. (is that a thing?) 

Death didn’t fall in love. Death didn’t even have relationships with anyone, let alone romantic ones. But when she realized she was in love, with Love, it was odd. Often, the meeting of two people, such as Love and Death, wasn’t exactly… the best idea. 

The first time Love and Death met, it caused a little thing known by history as the Trojan War. Didn’t exactly end up the way it was supposed to. Nah. I’m going to be blunt. They pretty much fucked everything up. Let me explain.

Love was desperate to meet Death. Everyone knows that love drives you insane, and he knew it better than anyone else. He was Love, and he had caused that lapse in judgement. Except now he was experiencing one of his own. Causing Helen and Paris to fall in love. Love was not stupid. He knew that people would die. And that was why he did it. Because who did he want to see more than anything? Death. 

He finally met her on the battlefield. A place where death was rife and love was scarce. But, since this war had been initiated in the name of love, it was ever present. She appeared no more than five steps away from him, but the distance seemed so much more immense. 

They simply stood, staring at one another, transfixed by each other’s presence. They had never gotten to see each other closely before; they were always a few hundred feet away, and seeing each other for the first time was trancing. 

Not just seeing, looking. She stared at him, taking in everything from his outfit, (a regular cloak) to the shape of his face to the style of his hair to the color of his eyes. His hair, so much like the cloak she wore; his eyes, like the sea after a storm, and his small smile, crooked, and full of mischief. 

He stared at her, memorizing everything about her in his brain. He knew the possibility of them meeting once again was slim, so he wanted this to be burned in his memory for all eternity. Her soft lips which were parted in slight surprise, her eyes which he knew were like the sky just before a storm. Her hair, which seemed to have rays weaved into it. 

She was frozen. She couldn’t move. He seemed to be in a trance, looking at nothing but her. Around them, the battle raged, but they paid no attention. 

They both were too scared to move step, but finally, Death managed to conquer enough courage and take a single step towards Love. 

He couldn’t help it. He surged toward her, rushing to meet her, until he stopped, his face only inches from hers. 

They said love left you breathless. Now Love himself was struggling and gasping for air. She smiled up at him, and he smiled softly back. He reached up and brushed a single finger against her cheek. She didn’t feel at all like he was expecting. Unlike the coldness that seeped from the corpses she visited, the only thing radiating from her skin was heat. Warm, loving, and shocking. She also felt… unstoppable. Don’t ask me how a person can feel that way, but if there was ever an entity on earth that embodied being unstoppable, it was Death. 

Love didn’t exactly feel the way Death had imagined him either. He felt… broken. She reached a hand up, brushing away the hair that fell into his eyes. His hair, silky smooth, fell between her hands as she touched it. His eyes, the very ones she had thought were green, were truly magnificent. Not just green, but blues and all the colors in between, swirling in his irises. She couldn’t peel her eyes away. However, deep within those eyes was pain. Awful, complex pain that seemed to have started thousands of years ago. 

Love wrapped an arm around Death’s waist, pulling her closer to him. Now that he had touched her, he was addicted. Sparks flew from every point. I mean, literal sparks. Where do you think that term originated? She wasn’t expecting it, so she let herself get pulled towards him. She put her hands on his chest and looked up at him. She had the softest smile on her lips, the faintest. 

Love brushed her hair away from her face, focusing only on her eyes. Gently, he lowered his head to hers, slow enough that she could pull away if she wanted to. 

She didn’t. She did the exact opposite. Raising herself on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his. It was as if a supernova had exploded. She let out a slight gasp at the intensity, for it was like nothing she had ever experienced before. He wrapped both arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She tilted her head, deepening the kiss. But, like all good things, it couldn’t last. 

She pulled away, her cheeks flushed like a tomato. He gave her a small smirk, and she returned it with a smile. But then something terrible happened. News on the battlefield was reached. Of the city of Troy. 

The army of Greeks had hid inside a horse, and slaughtered the entire city of Trojans. He saw it in Death’s eyes. She had to leave. Although she wanted to do nothing more than stay with him, she felt the pull, to go to the city and collect their souls to be transported. She bowed her head in a goodbye, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Death then vanished in his arms, disappearing in a puff of smoke. 

He stared at the spot where she had once been. In that moment, no one looked at heartbroken as Love. He felt it. The tearing motion, the one that makes you feel as if you were in complete. He didn’t move. He felt as half of him had been ripped away from him. It was true heartbreak. He couldn’t breathe. 

Did you know that you can die of a broken heart? Takotsubo cardiomyopathy. Brought on by many things, one of which is a particularly painful separation. A part of your heart enlarges and can’t pump blood well, and you can die from it. 

That’s how he felt. As if he couldn’t breathe. As if his heart wasn’t working. He only knew one thing; he had to see her again. 

The next time they met, was with another pair of lovers. You even know the story. 

Romeo and Juliet. 

Meeting when Romeo was dead, throwing himself over the dead body of his love, or what he believed to be as so. 

Love appeared first, while the poison was taking a hold of the boy, who was crying out for his love, who he did not want to live without. As he took his last breath, Death appeared. Right in front of him. She stared at him for a moment, then threw herself into his arms, kissing him passionately. 

She drew away, and touched her forehead to his, her fingers grazing his cheek. Love was overjoyed, like his heart was full. But he knew that the pain would only be worse this time. She broke down in tears, knowing she wasn’t going to see him again. It had been hundreds of years since they had been able to be together. Sure, they had seen each other in small spaces since they had met, but they had not been able to get together. 

His face softened, and he brushed away the tears on her face, although his were releasing their own. He stroked the pad of his thumb over her face, and she leaned into his hand, smiling sadly. He didn’t want to leave. Behind her, the sound of Juliet waking up, discovering her dead lover, and killing herself to be with him. 

Death turned back and burrowed her head into Love’s chest, trying to avoid leaving him as long as possible. But both felt the pull, her from the lovers, him from their grieving families who had entered the room. The pull was strong, but he dropped a quick, but passionate kiss on her lips, before he was forced to leave. 

Love never broke eye contact with her as she went to the souls, he stared at her, heartbroken. Love was forced to leave, help the families, help them mourn their dead children. 

Death was left behind, tears streaming down her face as she picked up the souls. Then, she did something she never did. She took a moment to look at the bodies, not the souls. 

She began to truly sob as she stared at the faces of the lovers, who, despite everything, got to spend the rest of eternity together. For her, it was the opposite. She had to spend eternity without her love. Always seeing him, stealing moments of pure Bliss with him, once in a thousand years. 

She picked up the souls, and left. 

There you go, dear reader. That’s the last time Love and Death were able to meet. Still as much in love as ever, they are desperate for a chance to see each other once again. And sometimes, the pain gets too much. It’s been 700 years since they last were with each other. They’ve had to compensate. 

Love sends Death the most beautiful gifts, and Death keeps them forever, everytime, freshly breaking their hearts. I wonder, is there ever a story as sad as theirs? Sure, you could argue that one lover dying, and the other forced to live without them is sadder. But they, like all humans, which succumb, and Death will pick up their souls, and they will be together once again. 

Love and Death envy us. Because we die. Because every moment is made ever more precious because no one knows when life might end. Because we love, and when we leave, we can see our love once again. 

Love and Death are not treated to such a luxury. They must spend all eternity, surviving on gifts and fleeting moments, like smoke in the wind. It’s there, but once you try to catch it, it vanishes. 

When will they meet once again? The moment is like a an artist. We don’t notice it until it’s gone. So they could have see each other, they might have yet to encounter one another. The story will never end. Unlike people. 

Why do you think we personify ideas such as Love and Death as people? Because we are people. And as people, we long to relate. By making Love and Death into people, we can understand just a little bit better the confusing noodle soup that is life. 

The actions of Love and Death are very human-like. But there’s one thing to remember. Love and Death are humans. To go through that much pain through the centuries, to be apart from such a taxing and deep love, takes a willpower that is only found in humans. Albeit they live forever, they still put themselves through that pain to be with one another just for a few minutes. And that degree of dedication, of love, and of commitment, is what makes Love and Death human. 

That’s what I have to tell you, reader. I bet you’re wondering who I am. I was there. All the time. I saw every moment that Love and Death fell in love, every moment of their heartbreak. 

I am Time herself, reader. Because only Time understands the power of love. 

I am brutal, I am kind, I am everything Love and Death are and more. They hate me. I am what keeps them apart. What they don’t realize, I am their most sympathetic. 

Love and Death. The starcrossed lovers of the world. They must go on. They must forge ahead, and try to meet, have the one thing that so many of us take for granted. They will always defy the odds to meet again, but they will always be forced back apart.


End file.
